Snakes, Monkeys and Jungle

A walk in the New Territories on Sunday threw up a number of surprises. Not far into the first hill climb, we came across a small group of people dressed head to foot in camouflage and carrying cameras on long tripods with huge lenses. Weirdos, we all thought, what on earth could be so exciting in a Hong Kong country park? They seemed to be pointing their cameras at a big tree root. Nature weirdos, obviously. And then we got a bit closer and saw that the object of their zoom lenses was not a tree root at all. No, it was a huge python, stretched across the path, with its head hidden in the bushes. One of the camo group reckoned it was 20 foot long. It had clearly eaten something rather large as it was incredibly fat, which would also explain it being slap bang in the middle of the path, exposed to people and animals that it would ordinarily hide from. Perhaps it had just eaten a small Chinese family. We were on the Family Trail after all.

The giant python wasn't the only wildlife we saw that day. We were walking along a narrow path, high up in the forest, when we heard what sounded like the snort of a boar, followed by a sort of barking. Worried that we might be approaching a pack of wild dogs, we pulled out a walking stick from the backpack and prepared to fight off some snarling canines. When I say 'we' I of course mean The Father and The Husband. I was crouched behind both of their backs. It was only as they were prepared to fight (and I to flee) that The Husband spotted something in the trees. "They're just monkeys!" he laughed. Panic over. A family of monkeys had become separated by the path and they were warning each other of the impending footsteps of The Humans.

The other form of wildlife came in the form of two very strange Chinese men who, judging by their hairstyles, seemed think that it was still the sixties. We actually heard them before we saw them as they were blasting out some terrible song from their mobile phone, held high for maximum volume. They obviously didn't treasure the quiet of the hills we were walking and felt that the howling and shrieking of Canto Pop was more to their liking.

We passed through bamboo forests and thick jungle before finally reaching the car and turkey sandwiches.

"Simply Having a Wonderful Christmas Time"

So Christmas is over for another year and, despite various illnesses in the household, it was a good one. It began on the morning of Christmas Eve with some kitchen prep. The Mother made the honey-roasted, clove-studded ham, prepared the vegetables and made one of the stuffings and I made the chestnut stuffing and prepped the bread sauce. All to some cracking Christmas music and wearing a gold sequined apron, of course. The Husband and I then walked over to Knutsford Terrace, a row of al fresco bars and restaurants in Tsim Sha Tsui, for the traditional lunch with my lifelong childhood friend Jen and her fiance Adam. Good food, good drink, good company and lots of early present-unwrapping ensued. We then trekked through the seething mass of people on the very busy shopping streets of Tsim Sha Tsui to take the MTR (Hong Kong's far cleaner, cheaper and more reliable version of the London Underground) to Central, where we were due to meet The Parents at church. Arriving earlier than expected, we decided to go for a little Christmas drinky and chose the rooftop bar in Prince's Building, where we sipped a crisp New Zealand white wine and a mojito whilst looking out over the harbour and across the skyscrapers of Central.

At the designated time we walked up Battery Path to St. John's Cathedral where the Christingle service we go to every year in Hong Kong was being held. Half an hour before it was due to start it was already full to the rafters, so much so they had even set up a big screen outside with a live feed to broadcast the service to people outside. It was a beautiful sight when the lights were dimmed and the cathedral was lit with the candles held by the congregation, accompanied by the sound of carols being sung.

After the service we hopped on the Star Ferry across to Kowloon and gazed at all the Christmas lights on the sides of the skyscrapers, before elbowing our way through the crowds on Canton Road to reach Civic Square, the cluster of bars and restaurants underneath the complex of apartment buildings in which The Parents live. A couple of lychee martinees later and we went up to the flat to prepare a simple dinner of parsnip and pancetta pasta, eaten in front of The Snowman. An early bed (in order to be asleep by the time Father Christmas arrives with his sack full of pressies) meant that we were up earlyish in the morning, bounding into the living room to see whether the big man himself had been. Bulging sackfuls on the sofas confirmed that he had indeed visited and we got down to the important task of delving into the stockings and pillowcases to discover what he had brought us. Half an hour later, we were still pulling presents out. We must have been very good this year.

A breakfast of ham and hot buttered toast, washed down with Buck's Fizz, was next on the cards, followed by the overseas phone calls to family members in Australia.Then came further present opening and before we knew it, it was time to prepare the lunch which, in our family, is just nibbly bits - smoked salmon on triangles of bread, sausage rolls, a selection of cheese, salmon filo pastry parcels - as we have our main Christmas dinner in the evening. After lunch, we walked around the harbour front to work up an appetite for the feast to come, before opening more presents and playing a fiercely competitive game of Cranium. I managed to draw the short straw and had The Father on my team. He had absolutely no idea what was going out throughout the game and at one point drew the name of the category rather than the thing he was actually supposed to draw. I suppose something like that has always got to happen on Christmas day.

We dressed up for the evening and emerged in our finest, ready to quaff some more Champers before the gargantuan feast that is our Christmas dinner. We had a traditional turkey with all the trimmings, followed by Christmas pudding and mince pies, all made by The Mother. It was all delicious but we soon fell into that coma-like state that always occurs post-Christmas dinner. Time for bed.

Snot and Shopping

I feel like my eyes are on fire and I can't stop rubbing them. My nose is running so much I barely have enough time to reach for another tissue after I've thrown the other one away. The bin beside me is full to the brim with tissues. I sneezed so loud at one point today that I actually made The Mother jump. I have come down with the mother of all colds and I am suffering. The combination of flying, the difference in temperature between here and Pattaya and the fact that The Brother only rid himself of a cold a couple of days ago has cruelly resulted in a very ill Expat Wife. Just in time for Christmas. The last time we were in Hong Kong for Christmas, The Husband had a fever of 104 degrees C so I suppose it was my turn.

Yesterday was a bit of a wipe-out because of the cold, though I did manage to meet up with The Brother for lunch and then The Mother to walk around the flower market, which was full of festive arrangements and smelt wonderfully Christmassy. This morning we did the disgustingly huge Christmas food shop. Well, The Mother did most of the actual shopping, I mainly I followed her around with the trolly, sneezing and coughing and whimpering slightly. It was no mean feat though - looking at the trolly one would have thought that we were preparing to feed the 5,000. That thing was heavy. When we at last reached the till, the tiny Chinese shop assistants watched the endless line of items in total shock. It's a good thing they didn't know it was to feed and water five adults over the course of just one day or they'd have had heart attacks!

Abandoned WWII Tunnels and Some Rather Bad Skating

Woke to a beautiful day yesterday. Still chilly but with glorious sunshine to warm the cockles. Perfect weather for a hike, and so that is just what we did. After a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs with mushrooms on thick buttered toast, we jumped in the car and sped off (well, as much as it is possible to speed in a city of traffic jams!) towards Shing Mun Reservoir at the base of Tai Mo Shan, Hong Kong's tallest peak. We parked up by the calm waters of the reservoir and, dodging the cheeky wild macaques that pepper the area, stealing food from picnics and BBQs, we started to climb up to Smugglers' Ridge. It was a tough climb but we were rewarded with some beautiful views - the tall residential and commercial buildings of Kwai Chung, the long stretch of Ting Kao Bridge, and the distant peaks of Lantau Island on one side, two reservoirs and the verdant hillsides of various mountains on the other.

By far the most interesting part of the hike however, was revealed to us via signs warning, "Danger. Desolate Trench. Do not enter." Everyone knows that best things always have warning signs, so on we trudged past the signs, and came across the remains of Shing Mun Redoubt, a series of underground bunkers and pillboxes connected by cement passageways that formed the key part of the Gin Drinker's Line, an 18km-long string of defense positions along the hill separating Kowloon from the New Territories. The tunnels had been named after famous London locations by homesick soldiers, and we saw the inscriptions 'Shaftesbury Avenue', 'Regent Street', Piccadilly', and 'Charing Cross', and explored the main command post of the redoubt, 'Strand Palace Hotel'.

We walked along some of the tunnels, keeping a wary eye out for snakes and spiders, and imagined what it must have been like for the poor British soldiers, knowing an attack by the Japanese was imminent. Many of them died down there in those trenches. In one of the tunnels, the victorious Japanese attackers carved characters in the wall. They translated as, 'Captured by the Wakabayashi Brigade'.

After such an educational afternoon, The Brother and I decided to do something festive, and went to the ice rink in the shopping centre below The Parents' apartment. It was slightly embarrassing to begin with as I hobbled along the perimeter, clutching the side for dear life, especially as there were several young children pirouetting around me. As much as I wanted to, I shunned the plastic penguins you could hire to hold onto, their purpose akin to a kickboard in a swimming pool. Nobody over the age of five was using them so I tried to be brave and skate unaided. I was just about getting the hang of it, skating on my own, away from the side, when a whistle was blown and everybody cleared the rink for an ice hockey game. Oh well, there's plenty more time for skating. I'm sure the Husband will want to show off his prowess on the rink when he arrives.

Game, Set, and Match

And so the family tennis has begun in earnest. The four of us played for over two hours yesterday on the courts of the KCC. I can't lie to you and say it didn't get ugly at times - The Brother hitting me with the ball, me accusing him of deliberately targeting me, the inevitable dubious line calls and the arguments that arise from that - but all the best tennis is intense! The Husband was very upset that we all played without him (and were therefore getting extra practice in) and has swiftly booked a lesson for this morning. He seems to think that after a lesson or two he will play like Davydenko, who we've recently been watching play a court away from us at our club in Pattaya. I haven't the heart to tell him that it will probably take a bit more than that.

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas...

Things are getting very festive around here. Thursday night saw us raising our voices at the KCC Christmas Carol night, mulled wine in hand. We sang 'till our voices were hoarse, then refuelled with thick slices of ham, an assortment of cheeses, and mince pies. Only one complaint, and I'm going to sound a right Scrooge now. I know that Christmas is supposed to be a time for children, blah, blah, blah, but there was a gaggle of about ten small kids who kept screeching into the microphone. They were loud. And high-pitched. My ears are still ringing. Parenting rule number 1: keep small children away from microphones and loudspeakers at all costs.

Yesterday was yet another marathon Christmas shopping spree but I have finally finished. Cause for great celebration indeed, so The Mother and I went to Harvey Nics for a glass of Champers. Heaven. Then it was time to race back to the flat to beautify ourselves before going out for a lovely meal in belated celebration of The Mother's birthday. The food was delicious but, in true Hong Kong style, the air conditioner was jacked up to the max, despite it being 12 degrees C outside. As we were leaving, we clocked a woman wearing a huge fur coat whilst eating her dinner! How the staff could have failed to notice that, I don't know.

Baby, It's Cold Out There

It is cold. It is very cold. Thailand, what have you done to me?? I am sitting here in thick socks, joggers, a big jumper and a fluffy dressing gown. It is 15 degrees C. In England this would be considered mild. Of course, 15 degrees C does feel colder in Hong Kong as buildings here aren't built for the cold, they're designed to keep their occupants cool in the heat and humidity that grips the city for most of the year. Last night I was esconced in two duvets as a portable heater blew warm air over me. Oh, and I slept in my socks, something I normally only ever do in the depths of winter in the UK. I'm actually getting slightly concerned about how I willl fair when we do return to England, especiually as it is likely to be winter. It will not be pretty. I imagine our heating bill will be through the roof!

For now, I am indebted to portable heaters, slipper socks and hot Shreddies. I find mulled wine normally helps too.

Hong Kong for the Holidays

Expat Wife is in Hong Kong. I am here for three weeks of Christmas fun with the family and the trip has got off to a good start... with just one slight hitch.

I landed a good 30 minutes ahead of schedule and therefore had my first glass of wine earlier than expected. A very good start indeed. A lovely dinner of The Father's mushroom and olive tagliatelle, followed by one of The Mother's homemade mince pies energised me for the main event of the evening - hanging the decorations on the recently delivered Christmas tree (from just down the road in a small place called the United States of America). It was the first time we have all dressed the tree together in, well, ever probably, so it was a lovely start to the festivities.

This morning was spent unpacking and doing a bit of food shopping, during which I bought a huge box of Shreddies, something I have not found in Pattaya! I have never been so happy to see that blue box! Hot Shreddies on a cold day... heaven! For it is indeed cold. Freezing in fact. I was never much good with the cold in England but after having spent a year in the Tropics, am now even worse at dealing with a bit of chilly weather. I wrapped up to go out and walked briskly to try and get the circulation going. It makes a change from purposely not walking too quickly in order to prevent excessive perspiration!

The Mother and I met The Brother for lunch at the KCC, the club they all belong to, and which I was once a member of too. A nice big bowl of wonton noodle soup both warmed the cockles and boosted my energy for an afternoon of that activity that rules all others in Hong Kong - shopping. If there was an Olympic event for shopping, Hong Kong would most certainly win. They're amazing, especially as many of them do it in heels. I didn't do too badly myself, managing about four hours. I can also feel pretty guilt-free about it as most of what I bought were Christmas presents!

So, all good so far. Until, that was, I decided to stop in at Starbucks on the way home. The barista obviously did not put the lid on my chai tea latte properly as, putting the cup to my lips I felt a splash of wetness down my front. Not so bad, so may think. Well, it wouldn't have been if I hadn't been wearing mum's tan coloured leather jacket. So far, she has kept surprisingly calm about it. We'll see how long that lasts if the stain doesn't come out. A trip to the dry cleaners will be made as soon as it opens tomorrow morning. My life is in their hands.

Up, Up and Away!

I went to the Pattaya International Balloon Fiesta yesterday with a few friends, but not The Husband as he had to work. It promised a hot air balloon display with balloons from all over the world, in all different shapes and sizes. We arrived just before 2pm and the car park attendant swiftly informed us that the balloons started at 4pm. Only in Thailand could you have an all-day balloon festival with no balloons until the late afternoon. Still, the weather was lovely and, with the sun on our backs, we wandered around the few stalls that were open. Lily, the two year old of the group, picked up a stick and had a great time playing with it in the dirt. We all bought some food and sat down to listen to the band rehearsing. We assume they were just a group from the nearby university but the lead singer obviously thought otherwise as he strutted around with an air of great self-importance!

After snacking on fried quails eggs, omelette and rice, crab and pork, strawberries, and banana and raisin pancakes, we headed over to the dirt bike racing track. To be honest, I was quite glad to leave with my life. The lack of any form of health and safety was quite astonishing, even for Thailand. The only thing separating the crowd of spectators from the track was a thigh-high flimsy net. Each time the bikes roared around, they came so close to us we were covered with a splattering of dirt kicked up by their wheels! I suppose the possibility that you might be mown down by a motorbike added to the excitement of it all!

When the balloons did finally go up it was quite a sight. Trucks carrying the balloons toured the ground, lighting up the burners and sending shots of flames up into the air to announce that the balloons were about to go up. It was fascinating to see them being heated up, metamorphosing from large pieces of flimsy fabric to huge balloons, capable of sending people in a little wicker basket high up into the air. Each time a balloon took flight, a cheer would erupt from the crowd and everyone would wave. Later came balloons in different shapes - a towering Coke bottle, a huge pink elephant, a farmhouse complete with farmer and animals, even one shaped as Darth Vader!

An aside: during the day, numerous people took little blonde haired, blue eyed Lily's picture, something I found quite odd but which happens everywhere she goes in this country! Ok, so she's very cute but it's not like we're in the depths of the Amazon - this is Pattaya, a holiday destination that attracts hoards of tourists; I'm sure they've seen blonde children before. And anyway, what do they do with the photos? Do they have a farang baby album which they add to each time they see a cute kid? There was one man who was there with his young daughter but ignored her and just followed Lily about with his camera!

After we'd tired of balloons, we filed back to the cars, only to be stuck in a huge traffic jam as cars tried to get both in and out of the venue. It took us a good half an hour just to get out. This wasn't helped by the Thai inability to queue. We were crawling past an exit to our left whereby a number of cars were attempting to join our lane. We let out two cars but the third pushed his way out, causing us to beep him out of the way. He very nearly caused an accident in his haste to get out and, in fact, did just that five minutes later when he went straight into the side of a car turning right across him. He obviously didn't want him to get in front of him so just kept moving forward! Luckily, we made it back in one piece where The Husband was preparing a roast chicken. I prepared some mashed potato and green beans and we had Christmas pud for afters. What a lovely end to the day!

Mopeds - The Real Terror of the Road

Cars are not the only troublesome vehicles on the road, indeed they are not even the most dangerous. Anyone that has spent any amount of time in Thailand will tell you, normally with trembling breath, that it's the mopeds you've got to be wary of. They appear out of nowhere, cut you up, dodge in and out of traffic through spaces that aren't really big enough to accommodate them, drive down the wrong side of the road, hardly ever indicate, and either pootle along while the driver has a nice little chat on his mobile phone or go so fast they end up screeching to a halt a hair's breadth away from you. Name a driving offence and there's no doubt most moped drivers have committed it. It's made all the worse by the fact that there are millions of them. Mopeds are a far cheaper mode of transport than cars, and, in the heavily congested cities, a far more sensible form too. This is especially so when they can drive up on the pavement to escape a particularly nasty traffic jam, which I have witnessed on numerous occasions.

Mopeds and motorbikes definitely rule the roads in Thailand. Queuing up at traffic lights illustrates this better than anything. Two-wheeled modes of transport do not queue up like the cars, vans and lorries. Oh no, as they can fit through the gaps they see it as their right to be able to squeeze themselves up to the front of the queue. There they gather, more joining the group by the second, until everywhere you look there are mopeds and motorbikes. As soon as the light turns green (and often just before!) they rev their engines and speed off, leaving the cars to tail behind them. There is no point in trying to move off before they have all gone as you'll only end up knocking one over and, as a farang, that means trouble. In fact, even if you're involved in an accident and the Thai driver is at fault, you'll still be in trouble. The feeling is that you're a foreigner in their country and if you weren't in the country the accident wouldn't have happened. There's a weird sort of logic in there somewhere. Be warned!

Dodgems on the Road

Our driver drove the wrong way around a roundabout last night. I wish I could say that was an anomaly but, sadly, it was not. Our driver, like most people in Thailand, just does not know how to drive. For the first few months, he drove like a rally car driver, accelerating furiously, then braking suddenly, dodging in and out of lanes. Anyone with any kind of heart problem would have been well advised to avoid getting in the car with him. Then, either a lot of people complained about their drivers or senior management realised that if they didn't step in they'd lose half their work force to RTAs, as the company decided to send all the drivers on a road safety course. Our driver came back a changed man. Unfortunately, he now operates at the other extreme; driving painfully slowly. It's quite embarrassing when you're overtaken by an old man on one of those motorised mobility buggies, especially when he beeps you out of the way first. Occasionally his slow driving can actually be quite dangerous, such as when he wants to turn right across a lane of traffic coming towards us. He waits until he judges the gap to be big enough - which, if he manoeuvred properly, it would be - and then pulls out so slowly that, 9 times out of 10, the vehicle approaching us has to brake and wait for him to cross. I don't know which emotion is stronger - my fear of getting rammed into by the oncoming vehicle (because of course, these manoeuvres put me in far more danger than the driver sitting on the other side of the car) or my acute embarrassment at our car almost causing an accident through sheer stupidity!

The problem is that people just aren't taught properly here. The driving test is a joke, and that's if you even take it at all. Usually, a few hundred baht in the back pocket of the relevant person will do it. I expect our driver went the wrong way around the roundabout because he didn't even realise what it was, or perhaps thought that it was just a suggestion to drive clockwise. After all, our turning was all the way round to the right, it was far quicker just to pull in without going all the way round! At least he indicated I suppose, most drivers here don't.

Tennis, Clams, Sunbathing and... Home Alone?

Another public holiday yesterday. Bliss. Tea and toast for breakfast followed by 2 hours of tennis in the Thai sun. Hardcore, I know. The Husband kept complaining that the heat was exhausting him and tried to take long breaks at each change of ends. There were definitely some time violations there. During one game he had to keep stopping to wipe the sweat out of his eyes. Lovely. I of course was jumping around the court, bursting with energy, and only managed 2 injuries!

After a quick shower, we walked down to Bali Hai, a tiny little eatery right by the sea where you can sit watching the fishermen casting their lines and nets as the waves crash onto the rocks. I took The Parents there when they were over and we were all fascinated by the men and women who stood on the perilously slippy rocks trying to catch something nice for their dinner. The Mother was very concerned about one fisherman in particular who swam right into the sea to check his net and kept going under. He was grabbing fish caught in the net and clearly knew what he was doing but every time the waves crashed over his head The Mother thought he was a gonner. Each time he resurfaced, relief washed over her face and she had to take a small sip of her beer. It was all a bit much for her! He wasn't there this time - hopefully just because he was fishing elsewhere! - so The Husband and I concentrated on the menu. We ordered beautifully fresh baby clams with chili paste and fried rice with crab, and washed it all down with a couple of Beer Laos', which were surprisingly good and could just be my new favourite Asian beer.

The afternoon was spent basking in the sun by the pool, so the whole day - tennis in the heat, Thai food, and sunbathing - was in marked contrast to the evening's entertainment. We spent a wonderfully festive evening watching Home Alone by the twinkly lights of our friends' beautiful Christmas tree. Christmas in the tropics can be very surreal!

The UK High Street Storms Thailand

I went to Tesco yesterday - yes, bizarrely there are Tescos in Thailand. It's true, Tesco really is taking over the world, though the Tescos here are nothing like the ones in the UK. I don't recall our local Tesco in Reading having a pick 'n mix meat section, nor a whole aisle dedicated to fish sauce. It is rather strange seeing the Tesco logo on a pot of shrimp paste. Plus, there are definitely more Thai people.

Along with the weekly food shop I needed some more moisturiser. I scoured the skincare section but, despite it displaying well-known brands such as L'Oreal, Olay and Garnier, there wasn't one product that didn't contain whitening ingredients. Now, I go to the pool at least once a week to maintain my tan, I work very hard on it, the last thing I want to do is slather on cream that makes me paler. It's that global irony - those who live in hot, permanently sunny countries want pale skin and those living in gloomy, grey, cold countries want a year-round tan. You won't find St. Tropez in Boots here! Yes, there is also a Boots. Lots of Boots' in fact - it seems they're not just on every high street in the UK, but in every shopping centre and on ever street corner in Thailand too! Top Shop, Miss Selfridge, Next, they're all here. There's even a Dorothy Perkins in Central, the smartest shopping centre in Pattaya. Apparently Dotty P's is posh here! Perhaps poor old Woolies should start up afresh over here, the trusty high street shop would probably be considered terribly chic.

Christmas Card Marathon

Finished writing all the Christmas cards at last! Hallelujah! The process started towards the end of November when I began writing the Christmas letter to put in the family cards - a summary of the past year for family we haven't seen in all that time. It's hard to condense everything you've done in 12 months onto a side of A4, especially when you've moved half way across the world in that time! Once the letter was typed out, checked over, revised, checked over again, and finally printed out, I then had to add a personal message to each one in pen. All that before I'd even written the cards and addressed the envelopes!! I finally finished them all yesterday but then came the most exhausting bit - posting them.

This should really be the easy part of the process but not if you have to go to Pattaya's shoebox of a post office. I walked in to complete pandemonium. There were boxes and packages absolutely everywhere, meaning that the already small floor area was hugely diminished. The queues led right to the back wall and then snaked awkwardly around the boxes on the floor. It didn't help that there were only two counters open. To be fair though, when I eventually did get to the front of the queue, I was dealt with most efficiently and wasn't asked twenty questions like I always am back in the UK. Despite this, I was certianly glad to be out of the door, even if it did lead straight out to a soi lined with girly bars! Only in Pattaya would the public post office be slap bang in the middle of a narrow street choked with bars containing girls wearing as little as possible!

Mulled Wine, Anyone?

Woke with a slight headache yesterday morning. Ok, it was more like someone had climbed into my skull and was attacking it with a sledgehammer. We had a Christmas party round ours on Saturday night and I got very much into the festive spirit - and several other spirits too. I had of course made a large batch of mulled wine, which was drunk with gusto. Then came out the bubbly - a very rare treat in Thailand -, followed by some red wine and finally several glasses of rather nice port. Well, it's Christmas, it's compulsory.

With the intention of cooking a lot of the food for the party ourselves, we spent much of Saturday morning and early afternoon trawling around several different supermarkets, searching for ingredients. The Husband was thrilled to be spending his day off touring the supermarkets of Pattaya, but I coaxed him into it by reminding him that he would have the Monday to relax as it was a public holiday for the King's birthday. After the morning's marathon shopping expedition, an afternoon of furious baking, cooking and preparing ensued. Mince pies, a chicken and pumpkin pie, feta, coriander and lime filo parcels, pigs in blankets (or dogs willies as a good, but possibly rather disturbed, friend likes to call them!), smoked salmon on triangles of bread, and lots of nibbles. It was quite a spread and we were both slightly exhausted before our friends even arrived, but a mug or two of mulled wine helped to pep us up and we were singing along to the Christmas music in no time! I even managed a full rendition of The 12 Days of Christmas, complete with accompanying dance moves. Yup, the mulled wine was definitely pretty lethal!

It was a great night but I was feeling a touch delicate the next day! As a result, we spent most of it lying in the sun by the pool, with just an hour of tennis at the end of the day - even that was quite painful! I certainly didn't play my best, which was slightly embarrassing as we've currently got some Russian tennis pros training at the club. They're rather good, as you can imagine, though they have the most awful tempers. We were playing a court away from a couple of them and one threw his racket at the back fence, swearing loudly in Russian, when he put a ball in the net. I guess they have to keep their aggression in check so much when they’re playing the circuit that they like to let all out when training. Which is lovely for us. The Husband has now decided that he’s determined to be able to hit the ball as hard as them (without it sailing over the fence and into the bushes!) and wants some lessons. I think it’s a bit late in the day for him to try to reach pro standard but it’s good that he has ambition I suppose!

A Little Bit of Switzerland in Thailand

We had our first Swiss meal in Thailand last night. In fact, it was my first Swiss meal ever I believe. I didn't really know what to expect - what is Swiss food anyway? The Swiss are hardly known for their cuisine, other than, of course, the biggest food phenomenon to hit the 80s - fondue. And yes, fondue can still be found in modern Swiss menus. Our friend Michelle (of the Christmas tree - see festive post) picked the meat fondue, which is basically like the Swiss version of an Asian hot pot. You stick your strips of meat in a big vat of soupy liquid until it's cooked, then dip it in a variety of sauces. It was actually quite yummy, though I've always tended to spurn those kind of dishes - like Korean BBQ and Japanese and Chinese hot pots - for being a little too much like hard work. After all, I go to a restaurant so I don't have to cook!

We were warmly welcomed at the entrance by the owner, who happens to work with The Father-In-Law, alongside running a Swiss restaurant. He is, funnily enough, Swiss, and took us through all the dishes on the menu, recommending a few for a group of 8 to try. I now know that Swiss food basically consists of meat and potatoes, but they were all very good meat and potatoes! At the end of the meal Robert, the owner, produced a round of pear Schnapps on the house, which was surprisingly nice. After that, plus the two or three glasses of wine I'd had with the meal, the urge to sing The Lonely Goatherd was irresistible. It was definitely time to leave.

A Gorilla, a Golf Club, and a Handshake

A couple of weeks ago, when The Parents were still here, we decided to play a round of crazy golf at Adventure Golf, a course roughly a twenty minute drive from our apartment. We had been shopping at a factory outlet complex and so needed to charter a baht bus down the busy Sukhumvit Road. Cue total confusion and miscommunication. We were approached by a driver and I told him that we wanted to go to Adventure Golf, upon which we received an puzzled look. "enter golf?" he asked. "No, Ad-ven-ture Golf" I replied. Another confused expression. I tried another tactic, miming swinging a golf club. "Ah, you want go to golf club!" he exclaimed, somewhat triumphantly, before eyeing us more closely, obviously taking in our very un-golf club attire. "No, no, not proper golf, crazy golf," I said, my hopes of ever reaching Adventure Golf sinking fast. At this point he took out a walkie-talkie from a clip on his belt loop and spoke very quickly in Thai. Another man walked up as he did so, and asked us where wanted to go. We repeated what we had told the other driver and he gave us the same quizzical look. "You want watch golf?" he asked, hesitantly. Oh dear, this was not going well. In a desperate last-ditch attempt I mimed a gorilla. This may seem like a strange thing to do in the circumstances, but there was both a picture of a gorilla on the road-side sign at the front of Adventure Golf, and a large replica on the course itself. I thought that one of them might have seen it at some point as they drove past. Apparently not. Cue embarrassed laughter and even stranger looks directed largely at me.

Another man then turned up to try and work out where these crazy farangs wanted to go, until eventually I said the magic words - mini golf. Immediately, the banter between the three men and the man on the other end of the walkie-talkie stopped. "Ah, mini golf," they said in unison. Why I hadn't thought to use that term before, I don't know, but after uttering those magical words we were soon our our way. We were slightly concerned when the driver pulled up outside the entrance and went in, leaving us locked in the back, unable to get out, but he did eventually come back and let us out!

After a highly entertaining round of crazy, sorry, mini golf, we needed to catch a bus back, a somewhat difficult task on the busiest road in Pattaya, where most of the traffic is merely passing through on their way to somewhere else. We eventually managed to stop a bus and he even seemed to understand where I wanted to go. Result! He was a little bit shifty looking so when he invited me to sit beside him in the cab at the front of the bus I politely declined and swiftly jumped in the back with The Parents. That's when I saw that there was a woman on the bus. If she wasn't going in the direction of our apartment before, she certainly was now. Unsurprisingly, it wasn't long before she rang the bell and hopped off, giving the driver a scowl as she headed off. I guess our 150 baht charter fare trumped her 1o baht fare.

We had gone about five minutes down the road, when the bus slowed to a halt at the side of the road. I should have known it was too good to be true to believe he might have actually understood where I wanted to go. I leaned out, expecting him to ask me to repeat my desired destination but he said something in Thai which I didn't understand. It soon became crystal clear what it, however, as he walked up to the bushes, a mere few feet from us, parted his legs and unzipped his fly. I either looked straight ahead of me and had a perfect view of him relieving himself, or I looked behind me and copped a lungful of fumes from the lorries speeding past us on the road. So I looked down. Unfortunately, it was the longest wee in the history of mankind and an uncomfortable couple of minutes elapsed before he jumped back into the cab, grinning inanely to himself. Well, I suppose if you've got to go...

Miraculously, we got back to the apartment without further incident. Until, that is, I paid him, when he thrust his hand out towards me. Not wanting to be disrespectful, I shook it. It wasn't until I was walking into the apartment that I realised just what that hand had been doing a mere ten minutes earlier. I have never been so glad of antibacterial hand wash in all my life.

Food and Feather Dusters on the Go

Food is not the only thing that mobile vendors sell. Oh no, those ingenious carts have far more uses than that. My favourites are the feather duster vendors. Yes, these vendors just sell feather dusters and brooms and are normally so packed with merchandise that it’s hard to spot the vendor himself. Often, you can just see a little head poking out through feathers and bristles! A slight hazard on the road perhaps, but a very amusing sight! There is also a man who rides around with pictures and newspaper clippings of and about the king plastered all over his cart. He doesn’t seem to have anything to sell, he just rides up and down the streets near our flat tinkling his bell and waving at people.

In a round-up of mobile vendors, it would be amiss of me to forget the fruit and veg sellers. These vendors use a pick-up truck rather than a bike and cart and squash an entire market into the back of their vehicles! Every sort of fruit and vegetable you can think of is displayed in their trucks, and scales and plastic bags hang from the roof. Fancy a bunch of bananas or need some small Thai aubergines to add to your green curry? Just flag down a market pick-up truck and they’ll weigh them out and pop them in a bag for you before driving off again. It couldn’t be easier!

I can’t say I have ever bought anything from any of these vendors, though I suppose I should before we leave. The satays and sausages always smell so good but it does worry me that they have been out in the sun for who knows how long, so perhaps I’ll go for something safe like fruit. Or a feather duster.

How to Feel Festive in 30 Degree Heat

Yesterday heralded the first day of the festive season and I was determined not to let the fact that it does not feel Christmassy here at all to detract from that. I opened day one on my advent calendar and got stupidly excited about the candle the window revealed, and propped up our first Christmas card. In the afternoon I made mince pies, while listening to Christmas music on a strange online Christmas radio station that seems to only play Christmas music all year round. The smell of mincemeat gave me my first Christmas buzz, the smell of them baking my second! Our friend Michelle very kindly donated her Christmas tree to us as she has moved to a much smaller apartment since last Christmas and doesn’t have any spare sockets for it this year, so the tree went up, plus decorations and lights whilst some mulled wine heated on the hob - Christmas smell number three; check.

In order to be able to enjoy drinking mulled wine, I jacked the air-con up until the living room was at a nice, cool temperature. Not exactly very green I know, but we’re so good during the rest of the year and I think the occasion warranted it. I roasted pumpkin, potatoes, bacon, sausages and sage for a quasi-Christmassy meal, followed of course by the mince pies made earlier in the day. We then slumped on the sofa and watched a Christmas movie with hot chocolates. Who says you can’t feel Christmassy in 30 degree heat in Thailand?!

Fast Food

I was walking towards the gym yesterday when I was beeped out of the way by a mobile vendor, in this case a moped with attached cart from which which hung dried squid and cuttlefish. These moped and cart sellers are common in Thailand and offer a wide variety of wares. Those that sell food either ride to a favourite location, where they settle for the day, or they ride around the streets, ringing their bell to alert people to come out from their houses or places of work and buy a snack. It's a complete mystery how most Thais are so slim as they do not stop eating. They snack throughout the day and still seem to be constantly hungry. These mobile carts therefore do a roaring trade, throughout the day, and sell a huge variety of foods.

Some carts sell an array of tropical fruit, displayed in a glass container and packed in ice to keep it fresh. You simply choose what you want and the vendor will whip out a chopping board and frighteningly large knife and chop it up into bite-size pieces for you. It's then popped into a plastic bag (which has a million different uses in Thailand - more on that in another blog), with a skewer to eat it with, and handed to you along with a smaller plastic bag which contains sugar and chilli - apparently fruit eaten on its own just doesn't cut it here. For Thais, everything needs a little extra spice! I may be strange but I personally prefer my fruit non-spicy and I think pineapple is sweet enough as it is, so I always forego the dipping mix.

Ice cream, Thai-style, can also be bought from some of these carts. Often made from coconut milk rather than cream, and with flavours and toppings such as corn, red beans, and bright green noodles flavoured with pandan leaves, they're not the sort of ice creams you'd find in your local ice cream van. Although cones and cups are often available, the most popular way of eating ice cream is in a bun. Yes, a bread bun. The ice cream is scooped into the bun, heaped with your choice of topping and then eaten like a hot dog. I have not tried this - funnily enough I have never had a craving for an ice cream bun - but I always imagine that the bun must get awfully soggy and would have to been eaten fairly quickly to prevent the whole thing from falling apart.

Many carts have an inegrated charcoal grill or hot plate, upon which they cook up food once they've settled themselves somewhere. Grilled pork, chicken kebabs, salted and grilled corn on the cob, meatballs on skewers, Thai sausage (which is very similar to Spanish chorizo), and spicy pappaya salad can all be found cooking on parked carts, sending delicious aromas wafting into the air to tempt passers-by.

Some carts are more like mobile restaurants, like the one that overtook The Parents and I as we were walking up to the Royal Cliff Sports & Fitness Club a couple of weeks ago. When I say it overtook us, I mean it just about crawled past us. It was so heavily laden it managed to only just keep moving up the small hill, its moped sputtering away as it strained to reach the top. It probably wasn't helped by the driver and his wife who, proving the exception to the rule, were rather on the heavy side. As well as the couple's considerable frames, the cart was weighed down with whole chickens hanging from the roof, plastic bags full of condiments and sticky rice, a variety of vegetables displayed in a glass case, a hot plate and wok, a large chopping board on top of which can only be described as a machete precariously sliding about, bowls and plates stacked up against each other holding a selection of cutlery, a large ice bucket, various cans of drink, and a few plastic chairs. I really don't know how the poor moped managed it.